


Terrain of Cruelty

by orphan_account



Series: Dead Men Don't Bleed [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Godfather Sirius Black, Grief, M/M, Nightmares, Sexual Content, Trauma Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4945153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hoping to help Harry after a nightmare, Sirius tells him about his own experiences in the first wizarding war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrain of Cruelty

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Chapter 7 of 'Dead Men Don't Bleed', just after they go to Remus' house.

_August 1995_

Sirius bolted up, immediately going for his wand as a second cry broke the night's stillness. Kicking the quilt away, he rolled out of bed. His arm in defensive posture as soon as he's standing.

Blind in the darkness, he stumbled through the doorway and blinked in the sudden eruption of light. "Remus? Lumos!" Adding his wand light to the chaos only blinded him further.

"Obscurus!" Remus' hoarse voice called from down the corridor; the sconces along the walls dimmed.

"No!"

Harry's voice this time, clear now and absolutely terrified. Pivoting away from Remus' befuddled expression, Sirius was in Harry's room in three steps. Harry was thrashing against the pillow.

Sirius leant over him. "Harry?" He took his godson's shoulder, shook it lightly, but Harry only jerked away.

"No…"

" _Harry_." A sharper jostle this time.

Harry's eyes flew open. They were wide and panicked, but he didn't pull away this time. "Sirius?"

Sirius breathed in relief as he sank onto the bed. "Yeah, it's me." And then when Harry only stared at him, he put a hand on the dark head and smiled. "You're all right. You were dreaming."

Both of them turned toward the door at a soft shuffling; Remus hovered just outside the frame. His eyebrows lifted and an inquiring smile lingered on his lips. "Everything all right?"

Harry nodded and mumbled what Sirius assumed was meant to be an apology for waking Remus.

"Yes," Sirius agreed with a wink for his godson, "very sorry we woke you, Moony. I just thought Harry might like to reminisce a bit. Wouldn't want to waste the night sleeping, after all." He nudged Harry's chin when Harry smiled.

Remus was trying not to smile as well. "You never were much for sleeping at night. Don't let him keep you up too late, Harry, or he'll be unbearable in the morning."

Sirius huffed, which only widened Remus' smile. He flapped his fingers at them and with a private smile for Sirius, drifted away.

"Don't listen to him," Sirius sniffed. "I am a morning person through and through."

Harry's smile only lasted for a second. He twisted Remus' old quilt in his fingers. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry about me. I wasn't sleeping anyway."

A dubious eye was his reward. "You weren't?"

"Not yet." Which wasn't quite true; he'd just fallen asleep. "I had to listen to one of Remus' lectures after I said goodnight to you. Which, I might add, was the second one in the past few days." He shifted so that Harry could sit up, but Harry didn't move away even with their shoulders pressed close.

Drawing his knees up, Harry said, "He's angry?"

"Two days ago," Sirius answered, "he was angry. Just before I turned myself in to the Ministry. I had never seen Remus so furious."

His fury had been pure fear.

"He was terrified I would be killed," Sirius explains. There was nothing rational about Remus' reaction.

No matter how Sirius tried to explain.

"Remus," Sirius whispered fiercely, "if you'll just listen for half a moment—"

"No!"

The explosion sent Sirius back a step.

Remus' eyes had taken on a feral light. "I _have_ listened," he hissed as he closed the space between them. "And I am quite clear on one fact— _you have lost your mind_."

"Remus—"

"It's asinine," Remus barked. He gripped Sirius' shoulders and gave them a sharp shake; Sirius didn't protest. "If you turn yourself in for a trial, you'll be killed on sight."

"I won't be," Sirius said softly, in the most soothing voice he could muster, even though he wanted to latch onto Remus and breathe him in until he forgot everything else. "They've guaranteed my safety."

"Guaranteed— Sirius, do you hear yourself? It was the Ministry who imprisoned you in the first place, without a trial and now you're just going to take them at their word?"

"If I don't, Harry has to return to those people. And I won't allow that, Remus. I just won't."

"Harry would not want you to do this."

"Because Harry would rather suffer than see anyone else in distress," Sirius went on in the same quiet voice, though it was an effort to unclench his teeth. "They locked him in a cupboard for ten years. They don't even feed him properly." Swallowing hard, Sirius squeezed Remus' fingers; hard. "They don't love him."

"But Dumbledore could—"

"Dumbledore knows," Sirius said, his voice tautening without his permission. "And he has done nothing. He told me Harry had to return there every summer, even after Harry was nearly beaten into a coma by that cousin of his. And his gang." He spat the word, the anger rising up as it had yesterday. "He is not going back there."

"And when you're killed?" Remus asked, the absolute stillness of his voice marred by the tremor throughout. "What will Harry do then?"

"Arthur found me an advocate—Frank's mother. I trust her, Remus."

Remus pulled away. "Then you're a fool."

Sirius watched him struggling to bring his emotions under control but no matter how tightly Remus wrapped his torso with his own arms, his breathing wouldn't even out. "They'll kill you," he whispered.

"I'm innocent." Sirius' voice wavered; he hated the way he sounded like he was pleading. But he couldn't bear the pain in Remus' face.

"And you think that matters? To _anyone?_ "

"I have to do this."

Sirius had wanted to move; wanted to tell Remus that it would be all right, but he had no such promise.

"You didn't have to do it, you know," Harry interrupted Sirius' retelling.

Sirius gave him a one-eyed squint through the dim candlelight. "I thought we sorted that, kid."

Harry tapped his head against the headboard. "I know," he muttered to his knees, "but if you had been…" He shook his head and didn't finish.

"I'm perfectly well." Sirius gripped Harry's fingers. "Feel that? Hey, look at me." Harry swallowed and brought his gaze up. "Not a thing wrong with me," Sirius said firmly. "And Remus wasn't right in the least. He admitted it himself only hours ago."

"He did?"

"Remus is every bit as clever as I am. Those people did not deserve you and he is just as happy as I am that you won't have to go back there."

"But you just said he was angry," Harry protested, though it was half-hearted at best.

"Well, yes, he was. People tend to give into anger when they're worried. Especially when they love someone." He nudged Harry's ribs. "You were angry yourself. Between the two of you, I think I'm lucky I didn't get thumped."

A small smile slipped through.

Sirius squeezed once more before letting his godson's hand free. He considered the stretched skin under his eyes; wondered what exactly had darkened Harry's dreams. "Did you have a nightmare about all this?" he finally asked. "No? What was it, then?"

Harry didn't answer.

"If you don't tell me, I can't help."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters a great deal to me."

Harry's eyes searched his, perhaps considering the validity of that, which tore at Sirius. "I promise it will stay between us," he said.

Another stretch and then Harry looked away and mumbled, "It was Cedric."

"You were dreaming about the graveyard? With Voldemort?"

Harry shrugged.

But Sirius knew he had seen Cedric die. "I'm sorry you had to see that—"

"I shouldn't have let him take the cup."

"How do you mean? Harry?"

"Nothing." Harry's hands twitched in his lap. "It was my idea. To take the cup together. If I hadn't suggested it—" He set his teeth and didn't finish.

Sirius slipped an arm round his shoulder. "You couldn't have known what would happen."

"He shouldn't have been there—"Harry shook his head again. "Never mind, you don't understand."

"I do understand."

Harry looked up at him through his fringe. "How can you?" he asked, despair and bitterness marking the question.

Sirius hesitated, but only for a moment. Harry's face was too haunted. "Because," he said quietly, "I've blamed myself for the deaths of others. Your parents died because I suggested Peter become their secret keeper—"

"It isn't the same."

"It isn't so different."

But Harry shook his head. "You don't understand—"

"Then help me understand."

Harry stared at him, his lips moving in between protest and acquiescence. He finally crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, "I told him to take the Cup. If I hadn't, he would be alive."

"With absolute certainty you know that?"

"Yes."

Sirius nodded. "Cedric couldn't have taken it without your permission, then? Or shoved you aside? He had you outweighed by at least two stone."

Harry didn't answer this time.

"You have no idea what might have happened," Sirius said gently, which did nothing for the set of Harry's lips. And as much as his godson wanted to insist he couldn't be understood, Sirius understood the call of guilt very well. Understood what it meant to feel responsible for the death of another even better.

In a way he hoped Harry never would.

"May I tell you a story?" he asked.

Harry frowned. "A story?"

"Do you remember I told you that your parents and I were in the original Order?" Sirius asked.

Harry's eyebrows told his confusion but he nodded; the sharp angles in his face had softened. "Yeah?"

"We didn't do much at first. Investigations mostly—for Dumbledore. This was just after we left Hogwarts. But as the war went on, we became more involved in the effort. Your parents married in December, in 1979—" Sirius smiled at the tiny lift of Harry's lips. "—and they didn't have a house immediately. I was the only one who had a proper flat, although I think I spent more time at your grandparents' house."

"How come?"

"It was home," Sirius said with a shrug. "The flat was one of the places left to me by my Uncle Alphard, along with his fortune, which I was extremely grateful for, but I liked being at your dad's house. Lily and James were living there, waiting to find a house of their own, so it was just a natural gathering place for all of us. Especially after being out on a mission for Dumbledore. It was nice to have your grandmother's cooking to come home to. And," he added with a sad smile, "it meant your grandparents worried less."

"How old were you?"

"Twenty. We didn't have many exciting missions before then, but Voldemort was growing stronger, gathering what seemed like a legion."

James and Sirius had been asked to check on a family, but almost as soon as they'd arrived, they were ambushed by several waiting Death Eaters.

As the jet of green light had hurtled toward them, Sirius threw himself at his friend, toppling both of them into the muck. Clawing at his shirt, he grasped the amulet that Dumbledore made just for this and wheezed, "Portus."

The familiar hook behind the navel took both of them away, depositing them in a heap in the secret room off Dumbledore's office a moment later. Sirius scrambled off of James, rolling him onto his back. His face was covered in mud and Sirius had no idea if the spell had touched him-

"You look like shit," James drawled.

Sirius let out the breath he'd been holding and sank onto the hard floor. "You're a great bloody arse," he finally managed, the words coming out shaky and rather feeble.

"At least I don't smell like Myrtle's toilet..."

"You smell worse."

James' teeth shone extra white against the mud splattered across his face. But the smile faded as quickly as it had come, and they both sat there, sprawled in silence except for their heavy breaths, still not under control.

Sirius pushed a clump of hair away from his face. "You all right?"

James' fingers skated over his shirt front, nodding as he found himself whole. "You?"

"Think I cracked my tailbone..."

"I do a mean Episkey," James said with soft laugh, "if you want to get your arse up here."

"Thank you and no," Sirius retorted. He cocked his head as he studied James' pale features.

"You look a bit peaky... Sure you're all right?"

"Bruised a bit," James said with a shrug full of bravado. "You're stronger than you look."

Sirius smiled. "About time you admitted it." Gently, he offered his friend a hand up, which James took with a hiss and an oath.

"I'm all right," he assured, wincing a little as he fingered his shredded shoulder; he squinted at Sirius behind his mud-flecked spectacles. "You didn't really break your tailbone, did you?"

"And have you mock me for weeks?" Sirius drawled with a smile. "Remus is not the only Marauder with brains you know."

James snorted. "Yeah, I know. Bad job we don't have an extra set for you."

"You're hilarious." Sirius grimaced as he shifted in preparation to stand. He might not have broken any bones but there was no doubt of the beginnings of a bruise on his backside. A rather large one by the feel of things.

The door opened with a loud creak. "Welcome back," Dumbledore said with a relieved smile.

"Made it in one piece, too, with only one broken tailbone between us," James said cheerfully.

Dumbledore cocked his head, his eyes full of concern as he peered over his spectacles at Sirius. "Madame Pomfrey is waiting in my office-"

"That's all right, sir," Sirius said as he stood gingerly. "James is just a bit stupider than he was a few hours ago; hazard of too many blows to the head." Some of the caked mud across James' eyebrows flaked off as he made a show of offence.

Dumbledore smiled again. "I take that to mean that you are both without serious injury?"

"Just a bruise or two."

"Not counting my slipshod cognitive abilities, of course," James added as Sirius helped him stand.

"Never count those," Sirius muttered.

"I'd clout you over the head, but my hand is bleeding."

Dumbledore watched them with amusement as they hobbled out of the crawlspace and into his office, where Pomfrey was waiting. "I am glad to see you are both in such high spirits at least," he said as he offered them seats close to Pomfrey's ready wand; Sirius sat with careful effort.

"What's not to be pleased about?" James asked as Pomfrey began fussing over him. "Dueling with Death Eaters; couldn't ask for a better way to spend a Tuesday evening."

Sirius glanced over at James, read the lines of distress and slightly haunted eyes that obviously Dumbledore couldn't; or maybe the headmaster was just as good at playing along as he and James were.

"How many?" Dumbledore asked, solemn now.

"Four... maybe five," James said, wincing again as Pomfrey prodded his side.

"You've fractured two ribs," she scolded. "Be still."

"One of them used a bone-ripping spell," Sirius told her, his words strained as he watched her sorting through potions.

"Not to mention the killing curse—Ow! Bloody _hell_..." James' smirk finally faded, and Sirius noticed the perspiration dotting his upper lip.

Pomfrey pursed her lips, not without sympathy, as she moved her hands from his midriff. "Do be still, Mr. Potter." She handed him a vial of Bone Restorative, which he drank without protest. "You'll need another dose in twelve hours."

"Was anyone hurt?"

Sirius tore his eyes from James with difficulty—Pomfrey was pouring a smoking potion over the deep gashes in his shoulder. "We put up the shields just before the Death Eaters arrived... it was only our own bad luck that they saw us leaving."

"My fault," James breathed.

"No, it wasn't," Sirius said quickly. James opened his mouth to protest. Sirius nudged his knee—rather gently, all things considered. "Shut it."

James sighed. He closed his eyes; his lips pressed tightly together as the potion began to knit his ribs.

"I injured one of them," Sirius said quietly, keeping his gaze on his stiff friend, watching the unsteady puffs of breath. "Two of them... but only one seriously."

Dumbledore nodded, and turned away to send his Patronus through the castle walls. "Caradoc and Dedalus will patrol the area until morning; to be certain they do not return."

Sirius nodded, praying silently that their efforts to protect the young family would not be in vain.

"Bruise salve for your chest," Pomfrey said, applying that to James as well and then finally turned her attention to Sirius, her wand held saber-like in front of her. "You'll have quite a few bruises as well," she noted clinically, with a raised brow toward his backside. "I will erect a privacy screen—"

"No, no," Sirius said hastily, "I'll see to it myself... er, later."

Pomfrey arched a brow again. "You're obviously in quite a bit of pain-"

"Scarcely a twinge," he interrupted; smoothly, he hoped. There was no way in hell he was going to display himself bare-arsed to Pomfrey. Not if he could help it. "I'm perfectly well," he said, working on his most mature tone, since he was fairly certain that all she saw when she looked at them was the two twelve-year olds who had come whinging to her after nearly blowing themselves up trying to make dung bombs. "I appreciate the offer though," he added, hoping it might help.

Pomfrey sighed. "Very well. Suit yourself." She handed over a small tub of salve. "Contact me if you should need assistance... of any kind."

"Erm... thank you," he said, trying not to let the response sound too squeaky.

There was a soft sound beside him; almost inaudible. Sirius glanced at James, who was suspiciously straight-mouthed. "What, no comment?" he asked quietly, exaggerating his shock.

"I'm afraid it'll hurt if I laugh," James said with a repressed grin.

"Wanker," Sirius muttered under his breath, immediately regretted it as James' chuckle quickly turned into gasping pain. "You all right, mate?"

"I told you to be still," Pomfrey chided.

Wanting to distract James, Sirius asked, "Do we have any idea where Voldemort is going to attack next?"

"He is targeting Muggleborns," the headmaster reminded them. He sighed as he went to stand beside one of the rectangular windows, gaze roving over the darkened grounds. "There is no pattern to his attacks, however... and the Ministry can only do so much." He turned back to them, his blue eyes regretful. "I am afraid I will have need of your services again all too soon."

Sirius and James nodded together. "Whatever you need."

All traces of humour had gone as James caught Sirius' eye. It had sobered both of them instantly.

"That must have been really difficult," Harry said quietly.

Sirius glanced at his godson, who suddenly seemed much smaller.

"All that fighting, I mean."

"It was," Sirius murmured. "But we didn't consider not being a part of the war, even for a moment. It was too important. But it was always a relief to be home again."

"Was Mum waiting for you that night?"

"And Remus."

They had stepped through the Floo and into the Potters' parlour as soon as Pomfrey declared that James was no longer in danger of puncturing a lung.

"Let me do that," Sirius said quickly as James fumbled with the clasp on his cloak.

"Bloody numbing potion," James groused as he gave up and let Sirius unfasten it. "Doesn't do a thing for the knife in my ribs, but can't feel my fingers..." Sirius pulled the cloak away.

James sighed, "Thanks. Don't let it touch the furniture or Mum will have my head."

"What am I, a mountain troll?" Sirius rolled his eyes and banished the filthy cloak to the laundry room.

Instead of an easy insult, James said quietly, "Don't tell Lily about the ribs. She'll only-"

"You're home! We didn't expect you so soon."

Looking up, they dropped the secretive scrum. Lily and Remus came out of the kitchen at a jog. Lily wrapped James in a fierce, one-armed hug; she missed his deep flinch of pain.

Sirius grinned at Remus, got a smile full of relief in return. "Hi there," Sirius said softly and was immediately pulled close.

"You're all right?"

"Except for a strategic bruise or two," James interjected, smiling now as well.

Remus pulled back, his sandy eyebrows furrowed with concern as he looked Sirius over. "What does that mean?"

"Ignore him," Sirius said firmly, with a sideways glower for James.

"We're both fine. Pomfrey cleared us to go home," James said, his carefully crafted non-concern not fooling Lily as well as he'd hoped; she was frowning as she studied his face.

"You're pale. You were hurt."

"I'm fine-"

Lily crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't lie to me."

James sighed. "I fractured two of my ribs."

"How?"

James glanced at Sirius. Sirius shrugged, apologetic without any reason to be.

"Death Eaters came as we were leaving," James explained; Remus drew in a soft breath and put his arm securely around Sirius. "We had a bit of a scrap..."

"I activated the Portkey before they could do any permanent damage," Sirius volunteered, to which Lily rolled her eyes.

"Must you always be so bloody cheerful about your battle wounds?"

But it had been easier that way.

"It was easier to pretend everything was normal," Sirius sighed. "I suspect, though, that it didn't really ease anyone's worry. And it irritated Remus more often than not."

"Not Mum?"

Sirius smiled, though he suspected it gave away too much grief. "James' joking was mostly bravado; it didn't last once the two of them were alone. Your parents were very much in love… couldn't pry them apart most days."

Harry smiled and Sirius was glad for that. He squeezed Harry's upper arm and went on with the story, "Dumbledore's summons arrived with the moon the next night."

None of them had had time to distance themselves from the previous night's attack, though Remus had done his best to ease the way for Sirius. This part of the story he kept to himself, the memory of lowering himself onto the bed once he and Remus had relocated to the flat.

Sirius had groaned as he set himself gingerly on his stomach. The soft mattress had never felt quite so lovely.

" _Merlin..._ "

Sirius twisted his neck just enough to grimace at the expression on Remus' face. "That bad?"

"Worse."

"A good excuse to get you to touch me though," Sirius said, grinning as Remus brushed a kiss over his shoulder blades.

"Prat," he said quietly, which sent a pleasant tingle through skin. "I hardly need an excuse."

He kneaded the tension from Sirius' shoulders, down his back. "Feel good?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"Mmm..."

"Tell me if this hurts," Remus said after awhile. He kissed the dip just above Sirius' arse; at least that bit of skin was unbruised. Cool salve was next, massaged in with a feather-light touch so that Sirius barely felt it. Except for the slight quiver of Remus' bare thighs against his own, Sirius wouldn't have known he was there.

And the thumbs which brushed a little too close to places that couldn't possibly have been bruised...

Sirius' hips twitched, seeking more contact.

"I rather thought you'd like that-"

Before Remus could finish the thought, Sirius flipped, trapping the other man beneath him and smiling into the tawny eyes, filled with surprise. Smirking, Sirius said, "Don't really think you're supposed to use that on un-bruised skin."

Remus smiled slowly. "Guess Pomfrey should have said so then."

"Could you not mention Pomfrey when I'm about to fuck you?"

"So sorry. Who would you like me to mention?"

"Unless their name is Sirius, no one."

"Don't think I know any other Sirius'-" Sirius nipped his collar bone. "Ow!"

Sirius glowered down at him, trying simultaneously not to laugh at the outraged expression. "Are you quite finished?"

"That _hurt!_ "

"Did it?" Sirius murmured, leaning in to draw his tongue slowly over the tiny red splotch. "Would you like me to do it again?"

Remus arched his neck. "If you do that afterwards..."

As Sirius teased the skin along Remus' throat with his teeth, Remus' arms wound around him as if making certain that there was no space left between them.

Pressure back and forth between them; stretching and coiling, until Remus gasped when Sirius' careful rhythm became something less ordered-something chaotic. He muttered Sirius' name from between their lips, sending Sirius over the edge as well.

"I'm glad you're home," Remus whispered, his breath fluttering Sirius' hair. Sirius smiled as he sketched a lazy trail down Remus' cheek.

"Me too."

The summons had arrived from Dumbledore that evening. There had been a rumour of a large-scale attack.

"It was a small wizarding village," Sirius explained, including Harry in the story once more.

"Known for attracting Muggleborns. All of us went that time; your mum and dad. Peter. Neville's parents—"

"All of you?"

"It was Voldemort's most ambitious attack yet," Sirius said, smiling gently as he met Harry's bright eyes. "We left in shifts. Remus and your mum were sent to move the vulnerable families from the village while your dad, Peter and I were waiting for the Death Eaters. It was ridiculously cold that night." Sirius chuckled softly. "I remember because James nearly scalded my face with his warming charm."

Which had been especially irritating because they had been hunched in wait for Lily and Remus to join them.

"If you could keep your bloody spells from catching me in the nose, that might help," Sirius grumbled.

James didn't even turn around. "Keep your bloody nose away from my spells, and we'll have no trouble."

"My nose is nowhere near your wand, you tosser."

"Nose, Padfoot," James drawled, waggling his elbow too close. "It's that ugly thing in the middle of your face. Move over, would you?"

"There isn't anywhere to go. Perhaps if you could shift your arse to the left—"

"Then I'd be touching Peter's arse and that won't do—"

"Hey, what's the matter with my arse?"

Sirius and James snorted together. "We haven't the time," Sirius said under his breath.

"The effort it would take."

"The grand list—"

"Would you two shut up?" Remus whispered as he disturbed the damp leaves behind. Sirius twisted, his smile draining when he saw the blood streaking Remus' cheek.

"What happened?"

"Death Eaters." Remus moved over only enough to allow Lily to join him in his crouch, which also took him out of the line of Sirius' searching fingers.

James and Peter turned as well and James muttered an oath as soon as he saw Lily; Sirius moved out of his way.

"I'm fine," Lily said before James could ask. The blood on Remus' cheek belonged to her, though one of them had already mended the nose; blood that hadn't yet dried clung to her lip. "I tripped," she said disgustedly, but she sighed as James took her chin and allowed him his survey. "I'm fine," she said again, softly this time.

James kept his eyes on Lily as he asked, "Your spell, Moony?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, then."

Remus shrugged but James didn't notice since he was pressing his lips to Lily's hair. "They didn't see you?" he asked.

"No, but there are more than Dumbledore said there would be."

"How many?" Sirius asked.

It was Remus who answered, "At least a dozen."

"Bloody hell…"

Peter stuck his head in between Remus and Sirius. "We haven't enough people," he whispered anxiously.

Impatiently, Remus shushed him. "Frank and Alice just arrived. Moody and some of the others are across the field."

"Dumbledore is in place with Podmore," Lily added. "Near the Quinces' house."

"Did they get everyone out?" Sirius asked.

"Caradoc and Dedalus are still moving some of the families." Remus glanced toward the houses inked in the distance. "It's taking too long."

Frowning toward them, James said, "We should have gathered more people."

"There wasn't time," Sirius reminded him before turning to address Remus and Lily. "What are we supposed to do? Did Dumbledore give further orders?"

"Same as before. Wait for his signal," Remus said, still distracted by the houses in the distance.

"With a dozen Death Eaters filtering in?" James demanded. "No further help than 'wait until you're summoned'? Bloody Brilliance."

"Don't piss on the messenger," Sirius said, nudging his friend with a toe across the small space. "And besides, Moody always contacts us when there is a change of plans. Give him a moment. This is his favourite sort of problem."

"I don't think there is going to be much strategy we can change." Lily's voice rang softly in the heavy air. "We're outnumbered."

"Don't give up hope, yet, Evans," Sirius chided. "We're Gryffindors."

"Outnumbered Gryffindors," Peter mumbled under his breath.

Dumbledore's phoenix had arrived then.

"He'd already accounted for the possibility of extra Death Eaters," Sirius explained to Harry. "Of course he had, and he was ready with more Order Members."

"There were so many of you?"

Sirius nodded. "More than there are this time. But back then, Voldemort's threat was widely known. There was no doubt that he meant to destroy anything he didn't consider pure."

"So, you weren't outnumbered any longer?" Harry asked. "Did Dumbledore find enough people?"

"Not quite."

They had only had the upper hand for a short time before they'd been overwhelmed.

Lily's warning had come just in time and the jet of green death passed Sirius' shoulder without touching him. He had no time for gratitude and Lily had no time to wait. She shot a pulsing spell at Sirius' attacker as another Death Eater charged at both of them.

"Stupify!" The spell caught the Death Eater in the legs, tripping him and sending him toppling. Sirius stopped only long enough to bind the man in magical chords before turning to help Lily with the first Death Eater, coming up behind to block the attempt to disembowel her.

"No need to thank me!" he shouted as he crossed in front to aim a curse. The Death Eater fell with a grunt.

"I wasn't going to!" she retorted before spinning away.

His smile twisting into a grimace, he ducked to avoid a set of misfired spells. Peter screamed as one of them sliced his leg open. "Shit," Sirius muttered and dodged two more spells on his way to his friend. James got there first.

"Hold tight there, Pete… Sirius—" But Sirius was a step ahead, already building a shield around them with his wand.

"Got it, mate," he muttered to the sounds of James ripping Peter's trouser above the knee. He tore the fabric again and made a neat tourniquet; cinched it tight.

"There." James gripped Peter's shoulder and then with a quick spell, the emergency Portkey was activated and Peter vanished. James breathed deeply and glanced up at Sirius. Before he could speak, the pops of dozens of Apparitions echoed through the square.

"Holy fuck…"

Sirius had caught James' arm as James leapt up. Black robes had filled the village. Black robes and those frozen masks meant to inspire terror.

"Three dozen," Sirius said to Harry, the remembered fear trilling through him even now. "At least. And we were completely unprepared for it. They set fire to the village. Three people had to be Apparated out—or sent away by Portkey—in the first few moments."

Which hadn't been the worse part.

"I was dueling a particularly talented Death Eater, two of them, until I disarmed one. That's when I saw your mum."

A Death Eater had cornered her near one of the burning houses. She hadn't even screamed. Simply glared at him while he set his wand at her throat and laughed.

A vicious laugh which had torn Sirius' insides to shreds.

The trip to her side had been a blur, though he was almost certain he'd punched his dueling partner in the face. He remembered the blood. But not as well as he remembered Lily's green eyes as she'd stared at her attacker.

His hands were trailing down her neck, moving toward her breasts.

Without a sound, Sirius flew at him, using his body to ram him hard in the side. The shorter man grunted and before he could regain his balance, Sirius thrust an elbow into his stomach.

The Death Eater's mask slipped then and Sirius caught a glimpse of a familiar face—a Slytherin younger than Sirius himself, a kid named Mandrick, but Sirius didn't pause. With his muscles coiled with the sudden rush of adrenaline, he pointed his wand and hissed, "Pulsus!" An invisible fist caught the younger man under the chin and sent him off his feet for the last time.

Sirius remembered it as vividly as if it had been hours ago instead of decades.

The look on his face, the flash of terror and then the realization of what was about to happen to him. Seconds later, the fire engulfed him.

His screams had finally ended after another minute.

And Sirius had been left with his arm stretched outward, a blackened bit of sleeve the only thing left of the Slytherin.

"He fell… in the fire?"

"I pushed him." Sirius swallowed through the harsh ache in his throat. "I'm sorry," he said quietly as he took in his godson's face, the eyes wide as saucers. "I don't mean to… I know it's horrible."

But Harry shook his head. His voice was full of awe. "You saved Mum."

"It was an instinct," Sirius said. "I didn't mean for him to die. It was a horrible accident."

"But he was going to kill her. Wasn't he?"

As logical as James had been about the whole business. Once he'd understood what had happened.

"Your father said the same thing," Sirius murmured. "But it wasn't as easy for me be logical about it. It's an awful thing, to have taken a life."

"But you didn't kill him—you were just defending Mum."

"I was responsible for him dying. Though I didn't even comprehend what had happened at first. I just stood there, staring at the flames. Maybe I was waiting for him to leap out, laughing and brandishing his wand. He didn't of course."

Lily had called his name more than once. Her voice had finally come through to him as if he'd been in a fog.

"Sirius…"

He blinked. Lily was in front of him. Her robes were torn; her hair matted with dirt.

The ends were burnt.

"Sirius," she whispered again. She tugged at his sleeve as her voice took on an urgent edge. "Sirius, come away from here."

The sounds of battle touched Sirius' ears and then James' yell, "Sirius! Lily! We're retreating! Get out of here! Go!"

Sirius tried to make sense of that, but Mandrick's face was swimming in his vision, dancing with the flames in front of them.

"Lily!" James' shout again, his voice so hoarse Sirius' throat ached in sympathy. "Go! Sirius, what the hell are you doing?"

And that was enough to shake Sirius out of his stupor. Keeping Lily in a dangerous situation, that's what he was doing. He found James across the field, still dodging a Death Eater, while the rest of the Order was either Disapparating or gathering up others in their arms. Remus was limping into a grove of trees with Alice Longbottom's assistance.

Sirius gripped Lily's hand; she was shaking. "Let's go," he whispered. He activated his Portkey and the two of them were whisked away from the carnage.

They landed on their feet in the makeshift infirmary at Order headquarters. James appeared before they even moved. He rounded on Sirius. "What the hell's the matter with you? Didn't you hear me?"

"I—"

"Fuck, Padfoot, there were four of them coming right toward you!"

Four? Sirius hadn't even noticed. James scowled, clearly intent on continuing his diatribe.

"James," Lily intervened, her voice very soft and that was enough to snap James' mouth closed.

But it was still irritably that he demanded, "What?"

"We're both all right," Lily said, her eyes darting quickly to Sirius before settling on James. She touched his cheek. "It wasn't Sirius' fault. I promise I'm fine."

James' throat rippled and it took him a moment to nod. He pulled Lily close. "I hate this," he muttered into her hair.

She said something that Sirius couldn't hear. He was about to turn away, but before he could Lily pulled away from James.

"Wait…" Unprepared for her fierce hug, Sirius took a half step back before he stilled. "Thank you," she whispered next to his ear. She kissed his cheek and then released him to ask Pomfrey what help was needed.

Sirius gazed at her retreating back. When he looked away, James was staring at him, his eyebrows pulled together. Sirius turned away to drift down the aisle between the rows of mattresses.

"Sirius, he's here," Alice called to him from the bed farthest away. It took Sirius a moment to sort out what she meant. Remus was sitting on the bed, his left leg stretching the length. Alice bent back to her task—pouring potion over a gaping wound. Remus gave him a squinty smile.

"You all right?" he asked as Sirius approached. "I heard James yelling for you and Lily."

Waving the question away, Sirius crouched beside Alice. "I'll take over."

With a smile, Alice left him to it and went to assist her husband. The potion was bubbling now, which left Remus gritting his teeth. Sirius summoned a pain reliever from the shelves along the wall and handed it over. "It'll just take a moment to close it." He gripped Remus' knee to still the spasms.

The reassuring grip of Remus' fingers against his wrist helped the swimming pain behind Sirius' eyes. The vision of those flames pouring from Mandrick's mouth wouldn't leave. He pressed his teeth together and began weaving the healing spells over Remus' leg.

"What's the matter?"

Sirius glanced up from the newly forming skin only briefly. "Nothing." A flash of a smile and he was waving his wand over Remus' leg again. "How did you do this anyway?"

"Bone-ripping spell. Wasn't quite as strong as it needed to be."

"Lucky for you…" It was an infamous way to lose a limb.

Remus didn't respond to the low observation. Sirius didn't look up again, instead concentrated on finishing the complicated spells. He frowned at his work when he'd finished.

"Well done, Mr. Black," Pomfrey approved on her way past. "Don't let him walk for at least a day."

She was gone again, on her way to tut over Peter, who hadn't been as lucky although at least he still had all his limbs.

Remus' hand brushed the inside of Sirius' wrist. "Sirius?"

"Just need to put a bit of salve on it," Sirius said without looking up. He caught Remus' furrowed brows when he turned to the shelves. He summoned the salve quickly and carefully spread a thin layer over the skin. "Sorry," he muttered when Remus hissed.

Both of them looked up as Dumbledore's voice broke over the quiet busyness of the ward. Moody was gesticulating wildly, while some of the other Order members looked on. Dumbledore sighed, nodded and the group moved together out the door.

Sirius turned his eyes to the salve's cap, twisting it uselessly before realizing he was turning it the wrong way. Remus took the jar and capped it properly. "You going to tell me what happened?" he asked quietly.

Sirius met his eyes reluctantly. But he couldn't explain, couldn't even let his mind walk over what had happened.

What he'd done.

Mandrick's terrified expression was too bright in his mind.

His scream still echoed in Sirius' ears.

He scanned the room for Lily, finally found her bent over Caradoc. The older man had his eyes closed but he was breathing. She was speaking softly to him; patting his hand.

Sirius watched her straighten and brush a clump of dirty hair from her face. Her eyes connected with Sirius' as she turned. Her fingers lingering over the charred bits of ginger strands, she smiled faintly. There was a burn on her chin; he hadn't noticed it earlier.

And an angry welt where Mandrick's wand had gouged her neck.

Sirius swallowed and dropped his eyes. "I should help," he said to Remus' wingtips. "Do you want me to take you home first?"

"Not yet," Pomfrey chided as she passed through again. "Don't move him for at least an hour."

"I'll take you home in an hour, then?" Sirius asked.

Remus was frowning as he nodded.

But two hours had passed before no one was in danger any longer, and Pomfrey began shooing everyone out except the most critically wounded.

Remus had been exactly where Sirius had left him. James and Lily were on the next mattress over. They'd had their arms round each other, looking as if they meant to stay tangled forever.

"I knew immediately that your mum told James what had happened," Sirius said, only realizing as he spoke that he'd drawn Harry closer to his side.

"Did you not want him to know?"

A little breath escaped Sirius' nostrils. "No," he said softly. "I didn't even want to admit to myself what I'd done."

"But it wasn't your fault—"

Sirius' eyebrows rose, which made Harry frown.

"It isn't the same."

"I know it isn't," Sirius agreed. "Cedric was completely innocent. But this isn't about Cedric at all. Or even about what you did or what you think you're responsible for. I am telling you all of this because I want you to understand that allowing feelings of guilt to fester can destroy you."

Harry gazed at him, a line of confusion wrinkling his forehead.

"I didn't want anyone to know what I had done," Sirius said, and for the first time in many years, the pain of that silence pricked him. He imagined the same sensation wallowed in his godson's chest. "So I didn't tell anyone."

But he hadn't needed to tell James.

James had hooked Sirius' neck in the crook of his elbow as soon as he was standing. A thank you for protecting Lily. And probably an apology for being such a berk earlier.

"All of you, out now," Pomfrey said firmly as she came up behind them. And then with regard to Remus she said to Sirius, "Be certain he rests. Off with you."

"Dad's waiting up for us," James said as he released Sirius. "I already told him we were safe." He sighed. "I don't think he cares to be left behind."

Mr. Potter's activity in the Order had been hobbled months ago, after a Death Eater's curse had weakened his heart.

James wound an arm about Lily's waist and asked over his shoulder, "You coming, Padfoot?"

"Think I'll go to the flat."

James peered at him from behind his spectacles. "Mum'll want to feed you."

"Knackered," Sirius claimed. James' gaze lingered for another moment before he turned to Remus.

"How about you, then? I suppose you're going to abandon us for this git? Honestly, I've no idea what you see in him."

Sirius slipped his hands into his pockets and didn't answer James' waggling eyebrows. "You can go on with them," he said in Remus' general direction. "I'm for bed."

He watched the confusion on Remus' face, but had nothing for it. His skin felt hot and if he hadn't been clenching his hands, he would be twitching. Mandrick had screamed—screamed as the fire burned through his eyes and nose.

As he'd been burned alive.

Sirius tried to still the tumult in his stomach and couldn't. He needed to get the hell out of here before he sicked up.

"I should call on my parents as well," Remus said. "They'll have heard about the attacks. Pub tomorrow?"

Pub Thursdays. With his lips pressed together, Sirius nodded. He watched in silence as Remus kissed Lily's cheek and Disapparated.

"What did I say?" James demanded as soon as they were three.

Sirius shook his head. "Nothing."

He had pulled his muddied cloak tight and turned on the spot.

"I didn't sleep that night."

Harry's bottom lip was taut; he nodded.

"I had never seen anyone die. That alone—even without my part in it—was enough to give me nightmares every time I closed my eyes." Sirius ran a hand over Harry's hair. "You've been having nightmares since it happened?"

"Dunno. Yeah," Harry amended, and since he looked like he wanted to say more, Sirius waited.

"That's what Dudley was going on about… that day in the park when you found me."

Sirius clamped down on his anger at the boy he had chased away that day. There had been immense satisfaction in frightening him. There would have been even more in bloodying the father. "He knew about your nightmares?"

Harry shrugged. "They could hear me at night, shouting about Cedric, I guess. I should have cast a Silencing Charm on myself."

"I'm glad you didn't cast one tonight. I don't want you to do that here; not with me." Sirius lowered his head and met Harry's gaze. "Will you promise me that?"

Harry's cheeks coloured, but he nodded. "Yeah."

Grateful for the ease of the agreement, Sirius leant back again and squeezed his godson's shoulder. "Good. Dreams are the mind's way of dealing with a problem—a trauma in this case. I am sorry you had to see Cedric die. It's a terrible thing."

"Didn't you… see a lot of people die though?" Harry asked. "During the war?"

"Too many, yes. And the thirteen Muggles Peter killed. Which I was partially responsible for as well, but Mandrick's death was worse. Worse because he didn't have to die like that."

"But… Mum…"

"Yes, Lily would have been killed if I hadn't intervened. But it took time for me to accept that. I was intent upon hating myself for what I'd done. If it hadn't been for Remus, I still would."

"What did he do?"

"Well, since I'd all but told him to shove off at Headquarters," Sirius sighed, "he didn't come round until the following night. He'd been staying with his parents."

Which had probably accounted for at least some of the foul mood in which he had arrived. The Lupins, as far as Sirius was concerned, were brilliant. They were, however, overprotective of their son, who they considered to have a debilitating disease.

And Remus could only stand so much of their hovering.

Sirius had been staring into the fireplace when the rap sounded on his front door. He'd recognized Remus' magic as he'd crossed the wards, but he made no move to answer the summons.

Magic lit the keyhole from the other side.

"Sirius?" Remus used a shoulder to close the door while his eyes searched the dim room. Frowning, he asked, "What are you doing?"

Sirius waved a hand. "Mostly nothing. How's the leg?"

"Your memory works perfectly well, I see."

Sirius watched Remus undoing the clasp at his throat while his brain tried to make sense of that.

The stand by the door pinched the cloak from Remus' grasp. "You were supposed to meet me at the pub two hours ago," he said, one of his sandy eyebrows high on his forehead.

"Oh. Right," Sirius said with a nod. "Sorry."

"Sorry? I waited for over an hour."

Sirius pushed up from the chair. "I forgot."

"You _forgot_?"

Sirius shrugged. "If you're hungry—"

"I ate while I was waiting."

"A drink then? Don't think I have pudding."

"Pudding?" Remus' incredulous voice halted Sirius' walk toward the kitchen. "You can't be serious. Where the hell were you?"

"Right here."

"You've been sitting in the dark for two hours?"

"Well, I didn't have a date with a tall, dark wizard if that's what you thought."

Remus stared at him. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded quietly.

Sirius turned back toward the kitchen. "Other than forgetting to meet you for dinner, not a thing."

Remus followed him. "What happened yesterday? Is that what this is about?"

"Do you want a drink or not?"

"No."

Sirius glanced up from the bottle of cabernet he'd plucked from the counter. Seldom did Remus use that brusque tone and almost never aimed at him. Sirius put the tall bottle on the table.

"Look, Remus, I'm sorry I forgot dinner—"

"I don't care about that," Remus interrupted; his turn to wave Sirius off. "You practically shoved me out of Headquarters yesterday. Which I wouldn't mind so much if you hadn't been acting oddly. You're never so quiet."

"We had just been ambushed."

"You were attacked the night before as well," Remus pointed out. "What was different this time?"

Sirius took up the bottle and pivoted to find glasses. "You're catching at shadows, Moony. Let's open up the wine… let me make it up to you, yeah?"

Remus was silent as Sirius handed him a glass of the dark wine. As he lifted the glass to his lips, Sirius hoped his smile wasn't as pasty as it felt. He just needed to stop thinking about it. Mandrick was dead and there was nothing for it.

And if he'd pushed him—

The wine stuck to his tongue and Sirius coughed, the spasms so deep it burned his throat.

Remus swallowed his mouthful. "You all right?"

"Fine," Sirius gasped. 

He hadn't been. But it had been easier to pretend.

"I think I thought I could make it go away," Sirius explained. He lowered his eyebrows as he realized Harry was studying him. Rather intently. "What?"

Harry shook his head, but then he tilted his chin up. He was squinting now, which made him look ridiculously like James.

"You look like your dad when you do that, you know."

Harry's concentration broke and he smiled.

"What's on your mind, nutter?" Sirius asked, tapping his godson's forehead lightly. "I'm not worrying you, am I?" He kept his tone light, and was reassured when Harry shook his head.

"It's just…" Harry made a vague gesture. "Well, you and Lupin… Remus…"

Ah. Sirius hadn't realized Harry hadn't sorted that out. Of course, there had been very little opportunity for discussion on the matter—and he and Remus had spent the better part of the past year trying to find solid ground again.

"Does the idea bother you?" Sirius asked.

"No." Harry squinted again. "Hermione said you and Remus… well, she said—" His voice changed to a high-pitched imitation of Hermione. "—'the two of them are clearly a couple, Harry. Didn't you even _see_ them in the shrieking shack that night?'" His voice dropped its pitch. "Ron said she was barmy."

Sirius tried not to smile. "She isn't."

Harry nodded. "Are you still... um, a couple?"

"Yes."

"He was really upset when you turned yourself in," Harry said, nodding a little to himself. "Makes more sense."

Sirius sighed. "He was upset when I wouldn't tell him what was happening all those years ago as well. I hadn't convinced him, of course, that nothing was bothering me."

Even though Sirius had pulled Remus to him, fit their mouths together just because Remus was there. But no matter how many times Sirius kissed him, Mandrick's face continued to haunt him.

Sirius remembered everything about that night. He and Remus had never been awkward, not even the first time they'd explored the odd, new attraction between them. But that night—their bodies wouldn't fit together.

And they had gone to sleep in silence, without satisfaction to draw them together.

Remus' breathing had evened out eventually and Sirius was left staring at the ceiling.

"When I fell asleep that night," he told Harry, skipping over the more intimate bits, "the nightmares were horrible. I kept seeing Mandrick's face, but this time he was in Hogwarts' robes, sitting in class or standing in the great hall." Sirius shivered with the memory. "I didn't know him well; don't think I ever even spoke to him."

"I only talked to Cedric once."

Sirius glanced down at Harry; at the hands tangled in his lap.

"He was nice to me though," Harry explained. "The other Hufflepuffs didn't like me much after the cup chose me to be a champion. But Cedric wasn't so awful." He clenched his fists. "I know you said it might have happened anyway, but… I shouldn't have suggested we go together."

"You can't change what happened, Harry. I know how badly you wish you could, but what's done is done. Do you even realize how brave you were, to bring his body back like you did?"

"I had to…"

"I know you did." Sirius chafed Harry's arm, as if the warmth might lift the hoarseness from his godson's throat. "After Mandrick died, I wondered about his parents. He had a sister and I wondered if she knew he died. And if she would have nightmares if she knew how it had happened. If she would hate me."

Harry nodded, and Sirius wished he could take Harry's pain as his own. He shouldn't have to be wondering if a dead boy's parents hated him now. "They know it wasn't your fault," he offered, even though it was inadequate.

"But you still wonder if his sister would hate you. Don't you?"

"Yes," Sirius answered honestly. And he still had dreams about him sometimes.

Nothing like the dreams that had taunted him the first time.

The screams full of fire had woke him more than once that night. His shirt had stuck to him in damp patches each time. The third time he woke, he was screaming along with the dead Slytherin.

Remus bolted up, his eyes alert and drained of sleep. "Sirius?"

With his breaths coming in shallow gasps, Sirius stared at him. The images faded slowly, the fire lingering at the edges. Burning him even now in the safety of his bedroom.

Dream Sirius had grabbed Mandrick by his shirt front to dangle him over the towering flames. Lily had been in there somewhere, begging him to stop while the boy screamed—begged to be released.

As his chest caved in and out, Sirius set his teeth and told himself it hadn't happened that way. The bastard had had his wand at Lily's throat.

Lily's fucking throat.

And Sirius killed him for it. Murdered him.

Burned him to nothing.

"Sirius?"

Sirius jerked back from Remus' touch. His hands were shaking and Remus' eyes were full of confusion.

Worry.

Sirius wanted no part of it, so he unbent himself and stood on shaky legs.

"Where are you going?"

"Water," Sirius croaked.

Remus caught his wrist. "Sirius, for God's sake—"

Sirius pulled away and then stumbled as he was unbalanced. He found the wall before he fell. Remus was kneeling on the bed, his hand still stretched out in front of him, as if he'd meant to stop Sirius from falling.

The fingers curled on the quilt. "Tell me what's wrong…"

The plea sent a wave of anger straight to Sirius' core. "Nothing," he spat before he could stop himself. "Nothing, so just leave it alone."

"It isn't nothing," Remus countered. "We slept in the same room for seven years and you never woke up like that. Not once. Was it a dream—"

"Of course it was a bloody dream," Sirius snapped. "I was sleeping, wasn't I?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "What were dreaming about? Or, is that part of your secret?"

"Just leave it, Moony." Sirius swung away; he was spun back around before he reached the door.

"Something happened during that fight. Why won't you tell me?"

Sirius tried to shake him off, but Remus was stronger. Low and rough, Sirius said, "Let go of me."

Remus' eyebrows drew together; he dropped his hand.

Sirius pivoted and went downstairs. The wine glasses were waiting on the table. The cabernet was warm, tasted horrible and it burned all the way down. His hand shook as he pulled it from his lips.

Fucking, stupid Slytherin. He should have fought back, instead of letting himself be killed.

Letting himself…

 _You killed him all on your own_ , the voice in Sirius' head taunted. A voice that was as deep and chilling as Mandrick's laughter.

Sirius gripped the glass and then spun, hurtling the glass through the air. It shattered against the cupboard with a satisfying burst. The red wine trailed down the wood and dripped onto the floor.

"Feel better?"

The sardonic question lifted Sirius' gaze. Remus was standing in the doorway. He had put his trousers on. His shirt was over his arm.

"No." Sirius' voice was ragged to his own ears.

"If you want to talk," Remus went on in that same cool voice, "I'll be at my parents' house."

"Bully for you."

Remus scowled; his shirt went on in jerks. "I've no idea what I did to deserve this."

Sirius stabbed his wand at the shattered glass. The tiny shards tinkled as they put themselves to rights. "You haven't done anything." He could feel Remus' gaze; it was boring into him, heavy and full of disapproval.

Sirius gripped his wand to keep it from trembling and vanished the wine with another wave of his wand. He wanted to admit what he'd done, but the words wouldn't form. "I'm just… I'm tired, that's all. I'm sorry."

"That's your second apology since I arrived."

Pressing his lips together, Sirius nodded. "I'm sorry—"

"Stop apologizing and talk to me."

Sirius closed his eyes. Mandrick's face was seared into the darkness. Forever screaming in terror. "I…" Sirius locked his jaw to the still the tremors. "I can't."

Remus' fingers burned Sirius' jaw. He jerked away. " _Don't_. Don't touch me." He backed up another step and said furiously, "Just don't." He glared at Remus; glared at his silence. "I thought you were leaving."

Remus shifted the hurt away. "Fine," he said stiffly. He summoned his shoes, bundled them in his arms with sharp movements. "But don't expect me to run back here when you decide to stop being a prick."

"I don't expect anything."

Remus blinked, his chest rising and falling. Sirius hugged his bare torso. "Just go, Remus."

Remus' jaw pulsed, but he said nothing before he turned. The click of the front door echoed in the empty flat.

Sirius closed his eyes and dropped into the nearest chair. He bent forward, catching his face in his hands as his chest heaved.

He hadn't moved for a long time. There had been no reason to.

"I was terribly unkind to him," Sirius' voice was thick with the memories of that row with Remus. A conversation he was still ashamed of. He cleared his throat and offered his godson a smile. "I realized later that I was afraid he would be disgusted."

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly. "I know what you mean."

Something else Harry shouldn't understand. "I'm glad you trusted me enough to talk to me about your nightmare."

Harry shrugged; the movement was self-conscious. Sirius jostled his shoulder and said, "Your parents came over later that morning. I was numb by then, I think. And I had convinced myself that I had chased Remus off forever. Your mum wanted to check on me… and it was a good job she did."

He had heard the Floo activating in the parlour. The niggle of hope was hard to ignore, but not impossible.

Remus wouldn't come back; not after that.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius' shoulders deflated. James.

Two sets of footsteps. "Sirius?" Lily asked uncertainly as she and James came in.

James spelled the lamps up and tilted his head, his eyes critical. "You look like hell, mate."

Sirius didn't answer. There was no point.

Lily stepped around James and pulled out one of the other chairs framing the table. "Sirius? Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sirius said dully.

"After what happened—"

"Nothing happened. I killed some Slytherin. What does it matter?"

Gripping his shoulder, James began quietly, "Padfoot, you—"

Sirius shook him off; his chair scraped the floor as he stood. "Isn't that what we're supposed to do?" he demanded hoarsely. "Kill Death Eaters? Isn't that why Dumbledore inducted us into his precious Order? To _kill_ people?"

Lily reached out. "Sirius…"

"What? Did Remus send you here?" he asked bitterly. "He couldn't stand to come himself, is that it? Well, I just did what I was supposed to do!"

"What are you on about?" James asked quietly. "We haven't seen Remus since he left headquarters. We assumed he was here with you."

"Yeah, well, he isn't. I told him to bugger off, and the two of you can scarper as well. I don't need you to come here asking all sorts of questions about my state of mind, because I'm bloody well fine. I should be, yeah?" he demanded of James. "You would have killed him too if you'd seen what he meant to do to Lily."

James stared at him.

"Sirius," Lily interjected before he could speak, "of course you didn't do anything wrong. If you hadn't—"

"If I hadn't, you'd be dead," Sirius snapped. "So you should be grateful I've got such brilliant reflexes."

"Oy," James objected, scowling now as he stabbed Sirius' chest with his fingers, "don't talk to her like that."

"James." Lily tugged his sleeve and brought him away. Her eyes were shining. "I am grateful," she said softly. "You've no idea." Her smile was shaky. "We just found out this morning, so you're the first to know… I'm pregnant."

Sirius felt as though he'd been punched in the chest.

James put an arm around her waist. He was still scowling.

"That's…" Sirius couldn't seem to find the words beyond a croaky, "Congratulations."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Lily said firmly.

Sirius said nothing; his anger had been drained. James was watching him, no longer frowning.

"Look, Sirius," he said after a stretch, "I think you should talk to someone. One of the older Order members. Or Pomfrey."

"Right," Sirius agreed, not meaning it in the least.

"Why don't you come back to my house? You shouldn't be banging around here, all alone."

"Yeah, all right. Later, I will." He fished for an excuse. "Need a shower."

"Here," James murmured. "Accio Sirius' shirt."

Sirius glanced down at his chest, having not realized he was half-starkers. He blinked at the shirt James handed over. "We want you to be godfather."

Sirius pulled the shirt to his chest, the feeling of numbness spreading quickly.

"You'll do it, yeah?"

"'Course."

James smiled, gripped the back of his head and gave it a smart jostle. "I'll stay here until you're ready. Dad said he'll fetch you himself if you don't come with me."

Sirius shook his head. "You don't—"

"I'm staying. I'll just sit in the parlour, nice and quiet."

Sirius had tried to refuse him, but James wouldn't be dissuaded.

"He was amazingly stubborn," Sirius said. Harry was staring at him, his green eyes large.

"So…" Harry fumbled with Sirius' revelation, "… if you hadn't…"

"If I hadn't killed Mandrick, you wouldn't have been born," Sirius finished. "I've thought about that many times. And once you were born—once I saw exactly what he'd died for—it was a little easier to let Mandrick go."

Harry's brow crumpled. "You hadn't… I mean, you still thought about it after all that time?"

"I still think about him now. It doesn't consume me any longer, not like it did then."

It had _haunted_ him.

He had finally fled upstairs, away from James' gaze. He had woke in the afternoon, with the sun streaming in through the window. He was soaked in sweat; and shivering.

With Mandrick's screams echoing in his ears, Sirius pulled the covers over his shoulder and curled away from the sunlight.

He heard the Floo then; knew it had to be Mr. Potter. It would be impossible to stay here now. But he couldn't go with them. They wouldn't understand. They would just tell him that he'd had no choice.

No choice but to kill Mandrick. Fuck, the Slytherin had barely been of age.

A child. He'd killed a child.

Footsteps cleared the stairs outside his door. Only one set. James had come up alone.

Relieved, Sirius curled up tighter and waited as the footsteps drew nearer. They stopped just shy of the bed.

His chest was so strangled, Sirius could barely breathe, "Go away."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Sirius froze.

_Remus._

And no matter that he disagreed wholeheartedly with the words, they left his mouth anyway, "I don't want you here."

The mattress dipped and Sirius was unearthed. Remus hadn't shaved; he was wearing the same clothes he left in. "Lily told me what happened."

Sirius searched his face for disgust. Found sorrow.

Balancing on his palms, Remus whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sirius shook his head. He wanted to explain, wanted to say something, but words wouldn't come. He felt the sting of tears, tried desperately to force them away.

"God, Sirius…" Remus slid down beside him and pulled him close, ignoring the stuttered protest. And then his lips were everywhere, lingering over Sirius' cheeks and nose. His forehead, his hair. "You're all right," Remus whispered against his ear. "I'm not leaving."

It had been exactly what Sirius had needed to hear. And Remus had meant it. He hadn't left. Not when Sirius finally let the tears come, and not even when he'd given in to anger.

"He talked me through that as well," Sirius said, smiling in amusement.

"What's funny?" Harry asked.

"Not funny. Remus can be exceptionally blunt when he wants to be."

He had needed to be. Especially when Sirius hadn't wanted to hear that he'd done nothing wrong. They'd argued over it many times.

But Sirius knew Mandrick's death hadn't been necessary.

He'd stared at the waxing moon through the bedroom window days later, finally voicing the truth that wouldn't leave. "He didn't have to die, Moony."

From his place on the bed, his voice breaking from its patient calm, Remus said, "You're right. You killed him. And yes, you could have been more careful. Taken your time about where you were flinging him."

Sirius winced.

"Given him just another moment," Remus went on in that same graveled tone, "and then the two of you could have watched Lily burn to death. The baby as well."

The words chilled the heat of anger.

"That's what would have happened," Remus said quietly. "Lily told me he had her at the throat, that her hair was singed she was so close to the flames. He was going to kill her. Could you have lived with that?"

"No."

Remus came up behind. He fixed his hand over Sirius' heart, pulled him close and held Sirius' reflected gaze. "You can't change what happened, Sirius. You need to accept that, or it's going to kill you. And then what would the rest of us do without you, eh?"

Sirius hadn't known how to answer that. But Remus hadn't minded. He had kissed Sirius' neck and simply stood there with him, words not necessary.

"It was weeks before I slept without nightmares," Sirius said to Harry. "But Remus was right. I was letting it take over."

"But you never stopped feeling guilty."

"Never completely, no. And I can't take away your guilt either," Sirius said, though it galled him to admit it. "But I do know that you need to accept what happened, accept that your life has been changed and then you move on."

"Just like that?"

"No," Sirius answered; he massaged his godson's neck. "Not just like that. It's never that easy. But I'll be here, whenever you want to talk about it. Or be angry about it. You are not alone any longer, do you understand?"

Harry nodded.

Smiling, Sirius folded his godson into a hug. He sighed as he rested his chin amongst the tangles. "I love you quite a bit, you know."

He imagined he could hear the smile in Harry's voice as he mumbled, "I know."

Sirius dropped a kiss into the dark hair. "And we can sit here for as long as you like." He gave Harry another squeeze before letting him straighten. His godson's cheeks were flushed. "Sleeping is overrated, no matter what Remus says."

Harry smiled. "I think I'm all right now. And even if you're not tired—" He pressed an elbow into Sirius' ribs."—I am." He emphasized that with a wide yawn. Sirius chuckled.

"My story wasn't that boring, was it?"

Harry grinned, but shook his head. "It's four in the morning."

"It's only half three, don't exaggerate," Sirius chided. "But yes, you do need your sleep." He gave Harry's chest a gentle poke. Harry obliged and slid under the quilt.

Sirius tugged it up a bit, which made Harry smile again—a shy sort of smile. Sirius rumpled his hair and said quietly, "Call me if you need me."

Harry yawned again as he nodded. "Night, Sirius."

"Night, kid." Sirius spelled the lights down. "Sleep well."

Sirius turned when he reached the door, lifted his fingers in farewell and earned himself another smile. Smiling to himself, Sirius slipped out and went across the corridor to his own room.

Lying in the quiet dark, he studied the sliver of light on the ceiling. Harry would be just fine. And Sirius was even more convinced that he had made the right choice to turn himself in for a trial.

He grinned as he allowed his mind to play over his encounter with Remus just hours before. Remus had been apoplectic at the news of what he'd planned to do. Which meant his relief had been just as dramatic.

Especially since Remus had had to wait until Sirius was reassured that his godson was whole after the two days of hell Sirius had put him through.

Not unscathed, but Harry had been perfectly cheerful when Sirius had left him the first time.

Smiling, Sirius had closed his eyes and leant against the wall, letting his breath out in measures. Even in his most far-fetched dreams, he could not have imagined this.

Finally free.

And Harry was his now, as he always should have been.

In two days, everything had changed.

Not quite everything.

Dropping his chin, Sirius cracked an eye and studied the closed door at the end of the corridor. He had been completely serious in his assessment to Harry; he had been afraid Remus was going to clout him. Not that Remus ever would…

Gathering his supposed courage, Sirius made his way to the closed door; tapped his knuckles against the wood. It swung open. The smile Remus had been wearing since they'd left the Ministry was gone.

Silently, he stepped back to allow Sirius in. Sirius closed the door quietly, his courage waning. He swallowed as he watched Remus struggling with emotions he hadn't meant to set in motion.

"I'm sorry—"

The words were swallowed by Remus' lips. Caught off guard, Sirius didn't protest as he was shoved roughly against the door, finally finding sense after a moment to frame Remus' face with his hands and pull him closer.

Remus made a sound too much like a whimper and Sirius' heart plummeted, but fingers were tangled in his hair in the next second, Remus' mouth insistent enough that Sirius ignored his guilt and let him have what he needed.

They were both naked in the next moments, Sirius' back against the cold floor as Remus fucked him. Remus' body was taut, his eyes haunted and full of more fear than Sirius cared to see. He drove into Sirius as if it would be their last time, marking him while his nails dug into Sirius' scalp and left bruises at his shoulder.

"Have you any idea what you put me through?" he growled as Sirius hands found Remus' hips.

"I had to," Sirius panted, and though it was true, it made him no less sorry.

"I know… god, Sirius, I already lost you once…" The words came out hoarse and to compensate, Remus bent to his throat, his teeth rough. "I love you, you berk."

Through the haze of pleasure, Sirius smiled. Remus tugged his hair, tipping his head up so that Sirius could see his brown eyes, no longer dark with fear, but full of desire. "You have such a way with words, Moony," Sirius drawled.

Remus scowled at him. "I'm in no mood for your humour. I'm quite annoyed with you."

Instead of sobering him, Sirius smiled. "But you do love me."

Remus kissed him, his tongue pushing Sirius' aside, intent on owning Sirius in every way he could. Sirius surrendered to the exploration, interrupted only by soft grunts as Remus slowed the tempo of his hips, drawing Sirius to the edge.

And when Sirius could only shift frantically beneath him, his hands begging at Remus' hips, he felt Remus smiling against his lips. "I do," he muttered. "But if you ever do anything like that again, I'll probably kill you."

His tongue surged forward, stilling whatever protest Sirius might have thought of; all coherent thoughts were lost then as Remus stroked him. His hoarse cry was immediately silenced by Remus' mouth and then they shuddered together, their chests absorbing the tremors.

Still kissing him lazily, Remus smiled as Sirius twitched. Another long kiss before Remus released him. He rested his forehead against Sirius', soft breaths tickling Sirius' nose.

Tracing Remus' spine, Sirius asked eventually, "Are you still annoyed?"

"Not nearly as much. You're a good fuck."

"Is that so?"

"Mm, exceptional… And rather grotty."

Chuckling, Sirius felt around for his trousers, and blindly pulled his wand from a pocket. "Freshening Charm?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Remus said, the words caught on a yawn.

Frowning, Sirius chanted the spell and then asked, "Have you slept at all since yesterday?"

"Have _you_?"

Sirius matched his arched brows. "Have you always been this tetchy?"

"Two nights of worrying about you, Sirius," Remus said with a scowl.

"You _are_ still angry."

"Of course I'm not." Remus sighed as he rearranged himself so that he was sitting up. "I was never angry. You scared the shit out of me."

Sirius sighed as well, reluctantly pushing himself up while Remus fumbled with his shirt. "Here," he said, reaching behind him for the bed's quilt; a pillow tumbled down with it. "You might as well be comfortable if you're going to lecture me."

Remus rolled his eyes, but he did take the quilt. "I'm not going to lecture you. You did what you had to. Harry needed you. And besides—" The skin around his eyes crinkled this time as he smiled. "—I've never seen you so happy."

Sirius grinned as he leant against the footboard. "A free man after fourteen years. I still don't believe it."

"Neither do I. You were bloody lucky they didn't kill you on sight."

Sirius' lip lifted. "Not angry at all."

With two sharp flicks of his wrists, the blanket was covering Remus' lap. "Mildly annoyed, I believe I said."

"Quite annoyed," Sirius corrected. "And I know it was a terrible risk. But I didn't know what else to do, if Dumbledore was going to insist Harry return to Surrey. You heard what they compelled Harry to tell them—Petunia's husband breaking his wrist—" Sirius clenched his teeth and didn't continue. He could easily strangle the lout, at least then his time in Azkaban would be worth something. But he'd already promised Harry he wouldn't.

"Harry seemed happy as well," Remus said, his voice quieter. "After he shouted at you," he added with a smile.

"Enjoyed that, did you?"

"Yes," Remus answered without chagrin. "It saved me the trouble of shouting at you myself."

"Fucking me senseless was more fun." The stray pillow was tossed at his head. Smiling, Sirius settled it behind him and tugged some of the quilt away from Remus.

Remus' raised eyebrows greeted him. "Planning to sleep on the floor, are we?"

"Absolutely not," Sirius muttered. "The empty bed down the corridor is spades more comfortable." He squinted at Remus, who had gone back to frowning. "Something the matter with your old bed?"

"Not at all, but it just occurred to me that you'll probably need to tell Harry something about us."

"Something besides we sleep together?"

A slight smile. "You're planning on telling him, then?"

"I wasn't keeping it from him," Sirius answered with a shrug. "We've been taking our time, sorting things out again. And it wasn't pertinent to conversations about Barty Crouch or rat cuisine."

"Rats," Remus echoed under his breath, but not wanting to rehash a subject that was better left alone, Sirius ignored it.

He'd settled for kissing Remus instead and no one had mentioned rats again.

It had been a brilliant celebration.

Sirius closed his eyes to relive it again, but the bobbing light of a wand distracted him. He squinted and pushed himself up, smiling as Remus stepped into the room. "You can't stay away, can you?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I think you overestimate yourself."

Sirius closed the door with a spell, slid forward and snagged the belt cinching Remus' dressing gown. "I don't think I do. What can I do for you?"

Smiling, Remus put out the light and let Sirius pull him onto the bed. "Just checking on you. Everything all right with Harry?"

"I think so. It will be, in any case. Though those idiots in Surrey…" Sirius shook his head. "I can't believe Lily is related to those people. That kid has lived on scowls and temper tantrums. He hardly recognizes a genuine sign of affection."

"You used to be the same way."

Sirius let his head tilt to the side as he considered Remus with amusement. "Is that your way of telling me there's hope for Harry?"

"No, git," Remus retorted easily, "it was my way of saying there isn't anyone better for him than you."

"Ah. Well, there is that." He smiled as Remus nudged his knee. "He seemed pleased enough to let me take his relatives' place, anyway. I could kill Dursley, you realize." He chuckled when Remus opened his mouth. "Don't worry, I promised Harry I wouldn't."

"At least one of you has some sense," Remus muttered.

"Oi! I have sense!"

"Since when?"

"Well," Sirius said, leaning in so that Remus' eyelids fluttered in surprise, "I had sense enough to come into your room earlier, didn't I? Although, some might call that reckless, since I was convinced you wanted to thump me—"

"I was tempted…"

Sirius lowered his voice to match Remus'. "Were you?"

"You turned yourself over to the Ministry…" The words caught as Sirius nibbled at the sensitive spot just below Remus' ear. "… and left me to wonder if you'd been killed on sight. And then the trial… they could have sent you straight back to the Dementors…"

Sirius' lips grazed his chin. "They didn't…"

Remus' throat rippled. "I'm glad they didn't." His fingers found the hair at Sirius' nape, tangling there while Sirius kissed him deeply.

Several long kisses later, when Remus' eyes were glazed and Sirius felt as close to drunk as he had since before Azkaban, he pressed Remus to the bed, watching the pleasure light Remus' face as he fit their bodies together.

A slow dance this time, the ebb and flow of pressure and sensation guiding them. No urgency to spur them on this time; no anger. Only the feel of Remus' arousal—the course thatch of hair, to contrast and send jolts of pleasure through Sirius' body.

And Remus' lips, which never left his, drawing them together to the edge and bringing them down again in paces until it was impossible to tell where one man ended and the other began.

A warm tangle of legs and arms, breathing together.

"I love you as well, you know," Sirius muttered against Remus' cheek.

Lazy fingertips drew drunken shapes down his spine. "Which is why I didn't thump you."

Smiling, Sirius pressed his face into Remus' neck. Nothing had changed. Nothing and everything.

He had Harry. And Remus would always be here.

It was more than he could have hoped for.


End file.
